


The Winter Soldier

by AcesOfSpade



Series: An Ant and His Wasp [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Comic Book Science, F/M, I still don't know how to tag for this series, also the title sucks i know, and a few brief appearances of Janet, but it's still pretty much TWS, this is TWS with Hank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 22:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15398541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcesOfSpade/pseuds/AcesOfSpade
Summary: In the two years following the Battle of Manhattan, things changed a lot for Hank and Janet. They moved to New York so they'd be easier to get hold of if needed, experienced snow for the first time, and added a new member to their family.However, Hank gets roped into an infiltration mission with Nat on a SHIELD vessel called the Lemurian Star, and things go downhill from there.





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> I think I've decided I'm going to do this whole series like I did the first one, where I write the whole thing before posting all of the chapters, because then I know it's done and won't be left hanging forever.
> 
> Anyway, I think I did okay with this one. I cut out a shit-tonne of fighting because I'm terrible at writing it, so there's not much of that. There's also some nice subtle hints towards future plot twists, so have fun finding those ;)

In the two years following the Battle of Manhattan, things changed a lot for Hank and Janet. After Janet felt 100% again, they made the decision to leave San Fransisco behind and bring Pym Tech across the country to New York. It took some convincing for zoning and building permits from the government, but less than a year after the battle, Pym Technologies stood near the edge of Manhattan, close enough to Stark Tower to get there quickly, but far enough that their tech didn’t cancel the others’ out.

 

Janet’s first day in New York was spent exploring the different shopping districts and markets, while Hank stayed back to get everything set-up and functional in the lab. Cross-country travel can really shake up a building, especially when it’s the size of a Barbie doll house and held in the lap of a mad scientist. Hank had refused to let anyone take it from him at airport security for every layover, and no one argued when they realized who he was.

 

Life in New York wasn’t much different than life in San Fransisco, except the snow. Back in San Fransisco, it hadn’t snowed since before Hank and Janet were born, so they’d never really experienced winter the way New Yorkers did. Hank decided he really liked the snow, but Janet disagreed for the sole fact that she swore the first time she saw snow, the reflected light could’ve made her go blind. Everything else about snow was fine, except that.

 

Another first for the pair, Christmas in New York, brought them a gift more precious than any material item. Janet told Hank she was pregnant on Christmas day as they just laid in bed for a while, enjoying each other’s company and the quiet for once.

 

On July 9th of 2013, Hope Alexa Pym was born. She came a week early, but nothing was noticably wrong with the tiny 7-ounce baby. Nat looked like she was fondly remembering a past memory when she asked if she could hold Hope, though whatever the expression was got replaced but surprise when she and Clint were asked to be Hope’s godparents.

 

Everything changed the day they brought Hope home. Janet had stepped away from field missions around her second trimester, opting to work ground control so she could stay with Hope. Hank dialed back the number of field missions he did, choosing to work on various projects in the lab he was toying with.

 

Hope’s first year was full of love and affecction, from her parents _and_ godparents, because obviously Clint and Natasha were going to be Those Godparents, the ones that wanted to simultaneously tease the parents and teach the child things her parents wouldn’t. Like swear words. Which was why neither parent was amused when Hope’s first word ended up being ‘asshole’. Clint got an earful and a half for teaching her that one. Naturally, Clint turned off his hearing aids so he didn’t hear the chiding.

 

Hope’s favourite thing in the whole world was ants. She loved the ants that were always roaming around the house, doing their chores like humans would, without complaint. She took a particular liking to the crazy ants, often found trying to mimic their erratic walking style.

 

Whenever her Daddy had to leave for a mission, Hope would bring him her favourite pocket-sized stuffed ant that Mummy had made her, as a good luck token. Hank always kept it perfectly safe, though the first time she did it, he nearly cried.

 

Even with Hank’s voluntary reduced mission load, he still got wrangled into missions by Nat when she said she _really_ needed him. That was the only reason he’d agreed to the Lemurian Star mission alongside her and Steve.


	2. Deceptive Infiltration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank hasn't worn the Ant-Man suit in nearly four months, but he's gearing up alongside Nat and Steve on what Steve thinks is a hostage rescue on a SHIELD vessel. It wasn't pretty when he found out the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hank 2.0](https://prnt.sc/k9qns8)
> 
> This is Hank's new suit, which I'm super proud of. I should probably go put links for Hank and Janet's costumes in the first fic too....

Putting the Ant-Man suit on for the first time in four months felt foreign. He’d done some cosmetic and technical upgrades to make it more efficient and workable, so the new material was barely broken in as he stood listening to Rumlow’s briefing.

 

“The target is a mobile satillite launch platform, the Lemurian Star,” Rumlow stated. “They were sending up their last payload when pirates took over, 93 minutes ago.”

 

“Any demands?” Hank asked. There was always a ransom demand in these kinds of situations. Hell, there’d been a ransom demand when Hank was being held by his school’s competing academic decathalon team in the twelfth grade, and he was like 13 at the time.

 

“Billion and a half,” Rumlow nodded.

 

“Why so steep?” Steve couldn’t help but ask with a small frown.

 

“Because it’s SHIELD’s,” Rumlow responded grimly.

 

“So it’s not off-course, just trespassing,” Steve sighed, shaking his head.

 

“I’m sure they have a good reason,” Natasha pointed out, though she and Hank shared a brief glance of uncertainty.

 

“Y’know, I’m getting tired of being Fury’s janitor,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

 

“Relax,” Hank told him. “It won’t be that complicated,” he assured him. _For you, at least_ he thought to himself anxiously.

 

“How many pirates?” Steve asked, just wanting to get this over with already.

 

“25. Top mercenaries, led by this guy, Georges Batroc,” Rumlow said, showing the trio a picture of the French man. “Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He’s at the top of Interpol’s Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions. This guy’s got a rep for maximum casualties,” he warned.

 

“Hostages?” Steve asked next, keeping that information in mind.

 

“Mostly techs, and one officer: Jasper Sitwell,” Rumlow told him, bringing up a picture of the officer in question to show Steve. “They’re being held in the galley.”

 

“Alright, I’m going to sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat, you and Hank kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep aft, find the hostages, get them to the life pods, and get out,” Steve directed, though his words were pointless. They weren’t going to be followed, that was for sure.

 

Hank settled his new, less-bulky helmet over his messy hair, securing it in place and moving on to tighten the gauntlets and belt he wore as well. He’d lost weight over the last four months apparently, as everything was fitting far too loosely for him and it being standard sized. He’d have Janet take it in when he got back.

 

As they prepared, Steve did a quick comm check to make sure the channel they were going to use was coming through fine, satisfied it would work.

 

“Hey Steve, doing anything fun this Saturday?” Nat asked casually as she strapped on a parachute.

 

“All the guys from my babershop quartet are dead, so no,” Steve shook his head, wanting to know where this was going.

 

“In that case, if you ask out Kristen down in Statistics, she’d probably say yes,” Nat smirked, watching his confusion turn to mild annoyance.

 

“That’s why I haven’t,” Steve said simply, preparing to jump. He didn’t want to actually answer that question, because that was a long and complicated story he wasn’t willing to share.

 

“Too scared or too shy?” Nat teased.

 

“Too busy,” Steve declared, diving off the plane immediately afterwards so she couldn’t bother him any more.

 

Hank just rolled his eyes in amusement, the tiniest smile on his face. Nat had a habit of trying to play matchmaker for literally anyone, even if they didn’t want her to. Thankfully, he and Janet were spared the experience since they’d been together before SHIELD recruited them.

 

Shrinking down to bug size, Hank let Nat pick him up and tuck him into her pocket so they could jump together, making sure he couldn’t fall out during the fall. Once Nat stabilized herself upon landing, she took Hank out of her pocket so he could return to full size for now.

 

“You remember what you’re doing?” Nat asked, since neither of them were there for the reason Steve was.

 

“Yeah,” Hank nodded, though he sounded solemn, like he didn’t particularly want to do it.

 

“Hey, you’ll get home, I’ll make sure, okay?” Nat assured him, patting his shoulder reassuringly and dashing off towards the control room. Hank, meanwhile, shrinks back down and took off towards the engine room, though not for the reason Steve wanted him to be.

 

Upon entering the control room, Hank returned to normal size and began fiddling with some of the equipment, removing his mask so he could get a better look at what he was dealing with. It was far more complex than the engines he usually worked with for his experiments, but he’d been given a quick crash-course by Fury on what exactly he needed to accomplish.

 

Thankfully, Hank got the hang of it pretty quickly, making his modifications in less time than he’d expected he would, meaning he had to go find Nat now.

 

“Engine room secure,” he said into his comm, shrinking and running off. He found Nat exactly where she was supposed to be, in the control room guarding the computer systems. Hank returned to normal size mid-jump, knocking at least one pirate to the ground as he made his way to the terminal.

 

As Hank began backing up as many files as he could, Nat kept knocking pirates out as fast as they could get back up to their feet. It wasn’t long before Steve and Batroc crashed into the room, making Hank pause momentarily, not knowing how to explain himself or Nat.

 

“Well, this is awkward,” Nat mutterd, landing a kick to a pirate’s forehead, fluidly moving to kick two more with a backflip, knocking them over again.

 

“What are the two of you doing?” Steve asked, more than a little pissed.

 

“Backing up the hardrive. It’s a great habit to get into,” Hank called over, shoulders tense as Steve made his way over. He stood behind Hank, looming over him as he took in what the other man was saving.

 

“Rumlow needed one of you, so what the Hell are _both_ of you doing here?” Steve frowned, arms crossed over his chest. “Saving SHIELD intel,” he muttered once he realized it.

 

“Whatever I can get my hands on,” Hank nodded reluctantly, transfering a few last files onto the pendrive he’d plugged in.

 

“Our mission was to rescue hostages,” Steve said shortly.

 

“No, that was _your_ mission,” Nat called over, punching a few more pirates down for the last time. “And you did it _beautifully_.”

 

Hank safely removed the pendrive when he finished, stashing it in one of the many pockets on his belt. He went to leave, but Steve stopped him with a rough grabbing of his shoulder.

 

“The pair of you just jeopardized this entire mission,” Steve said flatly, looking between both agents and dropping Hank’s shoulder.

 

“That might be over stating things a little,” Nat tried to reason, though Batroc managed to throw a grenade towards the trio, which Steve narrowly deflected. He grabbed Nat by the waist, Hank shrinking to jump into Nat’s pocket as Steve uses his shield to smash a window and jump out just in time to save their asses from the explosion.

 

“Okay, that one’s on us,” Nat conceded sheepishly.

 

` “You’re damn right it is.” Steve snapped.


	3. Ghost Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat called Hank about Fury's death, convincing him to meet her at the hospital so he could try to decrypt the pendrive from the Lemurian Star.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and most importantly: I reference the thing as a pendrive, since that's what I'm so used to calling it, but the actual movie used the term 'flash drive', just so you know and don't get confused.
> 
> Secondly: I added some fun stuff to Hank's background near the end of the chapter, which I went back to fact-check some things that made me realize I'm _great_ at bullshitting lol

Even though he probably shouldn’t have, Hank didn’t immediately hand the pendrive over to Fury once they got back to SHIELD HQ. He changed out of his uniform, slipping the small object in the pocket of his jeans and taking off for home before Fury realized what he’d done. If anywhere in the country had the capability of decrypting any of these files, it was the computer he and Janet had been working on for years, for this sort of purpose.

 

Hank had the pendrive for exactly 17 minutes before he was called in by Fury, and he knew better than to defy orders when Fury was almost certainly pissed off. With a brief goodbye to Janet and Hope, Hank set off for HQ again.

 

Rightly so, Fury was _pissed_ that Hank tried to make off with what was technically SHIELD property, which only got worse when Hank tried to explain himself. He wasn’t penilized as harshly as he should’ve been, though he wasn’t going to fight it.

 

Hank had been at home with Janet when Nat called him with the news that Fury was dead. He wasn’t initially sure if he should meet Nat at the hospital, but when she mentioned the pendrive, he _had_ to. Hank Pym wasn’t one to leave questions unanswered, and that pendrive potentially held answers to questions he hadn’t thought of before.

 

Despite it being past one in the morning, Janet didn’t try to make him stay. She would’ve, if he hadn’t looked and sounded so distraught when he told her he had to head out. She got the basics of what was going on, though she could figure out the bigger picture with just what Hank told her.

 

Once Hank met up with Nat in the hospital’s waiting room, she had him shrink down so she could drop him into the vending machine’s door at the bottom, instructing him to grab the pendrive and the back of gum right in front of it so it didn’t look like something had been taken from behind the gum.

 

Outside the vending machine, Hank returned to normal size, brushing the various crumbs and dust off his sweater from the vending machine. Nat offered him a piece of the gum, which he took to distract himself from the high tension of the whole situation. He just wanted the pendrive, but Nat wanted specific answers from it, and Hank was almost certain she was going to get him to decrypt it.

 

The two had been trying to look casual when Steve appeared, dressed as simply as Nat and Hank, sunglasses obscuring most of his face. The moment he saw Hank and Nat, he went over and grabbed them by the backs of their collars, pushing them into a nearby empty room with a scowl.

 

“Where is it?” Steve asked darkly, a tone Hank wasn’t fond of, as he took a step backwards.

 

“Safe,” Nat told him, even though Hank’s pocket couldn’t be considered safe in any way, shape, or form.

 

“Do better,” Steve snapped.

 

“Where did you get it?” Hank asked, sounding less scared than he felt. He already knew where he got it from, since that person had been hand-delivered the pendrive by Hank himself.

 

“Why would I tell you?” Steve countered, eyes narrowing behind his shades.

 

“Fury gave it to you,” Hank said knowingly, hands in the pockets of his sweater so Steve couldn’t see them shaking.

 

“What’s on it?” Steve pressed, noticing Hank’s shifting feet and Nat’s complete lack of reaction.

 

“I don’t know yet,” Hank admitted. “I had it for ten minutes.”

 

“Don’t lie, Hank,” Steve said suspiciously.

 

“I’m serious. Ten minutes in the lab, all I got,” Hank repeated as firmly as he could muster,

 

“He only acts like he knows everything,” Nat commented, trying to calm the scared scientist before something happened. All she got was a small, annoyed huff from Hank, but it was a step away from terror nonetheless.

 

“Did either of you already knew Fury hired the pirates?” Steve pressed, getting nowhere with the pendrive questions.

 

“It makes sense,” Nat nodded slowly. “The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in, so do you.”

 

“I’m not going to ask you again,” Steve said evenly.

 

“I know who killed Fury,” Nat admitted, though she showed no emotion. “Most of the intelligence community doesn’t believe he exists, but the ones that do call him the Winter Soldier. He’s credited with over two dozen assassinations over the last 50 years.”

 

“So he’s a ghost story,” Steve reasoned.

 

“He’s really not,” Hank shook his head slowly. “One of my first solo missions for SHIELD had me in the Ukraine, protecting a nuclear physicist that I knew before then. Someone started shooting, so I intinctively went tiny, but the physicist took two shots to the chest. I only survived because the shooter couldn’t see me.”

 

“Five years ago, I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran, and somebody shot my tires out near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff. I pulled us out, but the Winter Soldier was there. I was covering my engineer, so he shot him straight through me,” Nat told Steve, lifting the hem of her sweater and t-shirt to show him a particularly nasty scar just above her hip. “Soviet slug, no rifling,” she added, pulling her shirt back down.

 

“All I saw was a flash of silver and red before the guy took off,” Hank added, still shifting foot-to-foot and chewing the gum he’d stolen from the machine.

 

“Going after him is a dead end,” Nat warned, holding a hand out to Hank so he could give her the pendrive. “Like you said, he’s a ghost story,” she said, holding the pendrive up for Steve to see, and take if he wanted to.

 

“Well, let’s go find out what the ghost wants,” Steve decided, taking the pendrive from Nat and stashing it in his pocket.


	4. Basement Code-Breaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Nat follow Hank to his place, where he's positive his computer can decrypt the pendrive and give them the answers they want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dudes, by no means do I understand computer programming even a little. It's more my younger brothers' thing, so I kinda tip-toed around all of the technical stuff.
> 
> Also this is supposed to replace the scene at the mall with the Apple store, because I'm not a fan of Apple products lol. Actually, it's because I couldn't figure out a way to set up their cover to explain why the three of them would be there huddled around a Macbook.

The trio of Avengers made their way to Hank’s place, since his computer had already proven to be almost capable of decrypting the files. He was certain that if he’d had more time with it, he could access any file he needed.

 

“The drive has a Level Six homing program, but my computer was built with the ability to get around those types of things without me having to do anything,” Hank said, leading the other two down to the basement so they wouldn’t wake Hope. “That’s how I got away with the thing without Fury noticing at first. Computer registered it at SHIELD, but Fury must’ve checked everything he could before realizing I had it.”

 

“How much time do you need?” Steve asked, glancing around the basement lab curiously. There were so many things Steve couldn’t begin to understand, including a room roped off with enough authorization inputs that SHIELD would fight over getting their hands on them.

 

“Not long, maybe five minutes. I almost had it earlier, so the computer should pick right back up where it left off,” Hank told him, distracted partially as he typed rapidly, key strokes echoing softly. The other two stood quiet, letting Hank do what he had to do.

 

It took another five minutes on top of Hank’s initial work, the computer letting out a comical ‘ding’ that was almost certainly Hank’s idea. However, as Hank read the screen, he frowed.

 

“Fury was right about the ship, someone’s trying to hide something. This is the first time this computer’s given me an ‘error’ message,” he muttered in confusion. “The drive is protected by an AI like I’ve never seen before. It keeps rewriting the computer’s commands faster than I can correct them.”

 

“Can you override it?” Nat asked, frowning almost as deeply as Hank was. Hank’s initial response was a defeated sigh and a hand running down his face in frustration.

 

“I don’t say this often, but whoever programmed this was slightly smarter than me,” Hank sighed, shaking his head. “Only slightly, though. It’s a tracer for hostile malware, I got that much out of it, so I’m going to try running a tracer of my own. If we can’t get into it, we could still figure out where it came from.”

 

“Just do what you can, Hank,” Steve nodded to Hank, who turned back and started typing more haphazardly than before.

 

As Hank began his tracer, rather light footsteps came from the staircase leading upstairs, followed by a heavier set a few seconds later. The light steps turned out to belong to Hope, who toddled over to Hank and hugged his leg.

 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Janet said apologetically from the bottom of the stairs. “She insisted on coming down to see you when she woke up and realized you were here.”

 

Hank paused at the computer for a moment, smiling and chuckling softly as he got Hope off of his leg so he could pick her up and balance her on his hip.

 

“You need to go back to bed, Jellybean,” Hank said in that tone people used with little kids. “Daddy’s got some important work to do with Auntie Nat and Steve, okay? I’ll read you a story when I get home, I promise.”

 

Hope nodded, hugging Hank’s neck before he went to hand her over to Janet.

 

“Night, Daddy,” Hope yawned, nestling her head on Janet’s shoulder as the two headed back upstairs.

 

“She’s gotten so big,” Nat said with a faint, fond smile. “She looks like Janet now, but she’s got your eyes. She’ll be a heartbreaker, I can tell,” she joked, lightening the mood, even if only a little.

 

“She’s the best little girl ever,” Hank chuckled, turning back to the computer. “I might just be bias though, because she _is_ my daughter,” he added, his tracer finally displaying a location. “Wheaton, New Jersey. Either of you know a place called Camp Lehigh? Tracer can only get as far as it’s somewhere on that property.”

 

“I do,” Steve said, tone clipped, but not in anger. It was something else, but Nat nor Hank could tell what. “As convenient as it would be to take your car Hank, we need something a little more low-profile if we’re driving to Jersey.”

 

“I can do low-profile,” Hank commented, unplugging the pendrive and pocketing it before disappearing into one of the smaller parts of the lab, returning with what looked to be a case made for Hot Wheels cars. He placed it on the table by the computer, opening the latch to reveal an assortment of what looked like Hot Wheels cars. “They look a little small, but pick the one you think would work best. Haven’t had to use any of them in a while, so any one should have a full tank.”

 

Nat ended up making the choice, because Steve knew nothing about modern cars. She picked a black 2004 Ford Focus, handing her choice to Hank.

 

“That’s probably good, might have a small dent in the rear passenger door, but it shouldn’t be too noticable,” Hank nodded, turning the car around in his hand. “Shall we? I’m driving, because I’ve seen both of you drive and this is my car. I’d like it in one piece,” he said teasingly, heading for the stairs.

 

“Harsh, Pym,” Nat rolled her eyes, following regardless. Steve followed her up, simply chuckling under his breath.

 

~*~*~

 

With a three-hour drive ahead of them, Hank pretty much ordered the other two to eat something, even if it was just some onion rings from a fast food place. Running on an empty stomach was hard under normal conditions, let alone on highly illegal infiltration missions. Hank himself had grabbed a strange, glowing bottle from his kitchen alongside a couple cookies from the top of the fridge before they headed out.

 

Once Steve and Nat grabbed something to eat, they settled in for the drive. Nat was in the back seat, stretched out over all three seats as she ate a fairly large soft pretzel, looking far too casual for an internationally-feared assassin. Since Steve was way too big for the back seat, he got shotgun, though he was still a little too squished. At least his fries weren’t getting squished.

 

“Okay, Hank, I gotta asked,” Nat piped up about forty-five minutes in. “What is in that bottle? It’s glowing _orange_ , and you’re drinking it like juice.”

 

“You know how Janet and I can control our size, yeah? This has a highly refined, liquidized version of the stuff that lets us do that,” Hank explained. “We have to top up every so often, like putting gas in a car. Tastes like water, but yeah, it kind of glows. Couldn’t figure out how to stop that.”

 

“I’m still confused on that, by the way,” Steve commented. “No one really explained the science to me; they thought it’d go right over my head.”

 

Hank glanced down at the clock on the dashboard, deciding there was enough time to explain and answer questions before they got there.


	5. Not-So-Artificial Intelligence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving at Camp Lehigh, the trio of heroes start digging around what looks to be an old SHIELD building. However, what they find in the basement isn't something they expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's where I reveal just how old Hank is, and by extension Janet because she's a year younger, lol.

By the time they reached Lehigh, Steve actually had a pretty solid idea of how the Pym Particles worked. Hank was an excellent teacher, and made things easy for Steve to understand without needing to use long, probably Latin terms to describe things.

 

“This is it,” Steve declared when they pulled up to the camp, unbuckling his seatbelt to get out. Hank and Nat did too, Hank shrinking the car back down to put in his pocket so no one would spot it.

 

“That’s pretty neat,” Steve commented when Hank picked up the now-toy car. “And useful. Remind me to not piss you off,” he joked, hands in his sweater pockets as the trio approached the gate. The lock didn’t flinch when Steve cut into it with his shield, so he and Nat simply vaulted the fence in one jump, Hank shrunking to squeeze through the chains and returning to normal size once through.

 

“The file came from this property, but I couldn’t get anything specific,” Hank reminded the other two, tempted greatly to wander off and explore on his own.

 

“Yeah, so did I,” Steve muttered, looking around with mixed fondness and something the others couldn’t describe. “This is where I was trained,” he mused. “Hasn’t changed much, but there are things I don’t recognize.”

 

“Well, we’ll need those memories to figure out why I’m not getting any readings besides us,” Hank frowned. “No heat signature, no waves, not even any radio frequencies. Whoever wrote the file must’ve used some sort of router to throw potential hackers off.”

 

“That building there,” Steve said, pointing to one a few hundred feet in front of them. “Army regulations forbid storing ammunition within five-hundred yards of the barracks. This building’s in the wrong place.”

 

“Only one way to know if he’s right,” Hank commented idly, mostly because he wanted more time to explore. Steve seemed to understand what he was getting at, making his way to the door of the building. The lock was considerably more deteriorated than the gate, so one solid hit from the shield broke it clean apart.

 

Hank stepped inside after Nat and Steve, closing the door behind him as he surveyed the room with wide eyes.

 

“This is SHIELD,” Nat realized, blinking.

 

“Maybe where it started,” Hank noted as they came across three wartime-era portraits hanging above a outdated SHIELD insignia on the wall. The centre portrait was of a stern-looking young woman with dark auburn hair and a wicked red-painted smirk that made Steve shake his head with a chuckle for some reason. To the left was a portrait of a man who looked eerily like Tony, but with more grey in his hair and different eyes. To the right was a man in his military uniform, a coloniel based on the markings. Steve gave each a brief glance before moving on, not wanting to stew on the past too long.

 

Hank noticed a section bookshelf that didn’t sit flush with the other parts, wandering over to it. His face split into a childish grin for a moment when he realized what it was, calling Nat and Steve over.

 

“Secret door,” Hank beamed, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly.

 

“If you’re working in a secret underground office, why bother with a secret elevator?” Steve frowned, getting the elevator doors open so they could head down.

 

Below ground hid a room that looked to be made of concrete, filled to almost capacity with older-looking computers. Hank looked like a kid in a candy shop, eyes wide as he surveyed the room’s contents.

 

“This can’t be where the file came from,” Nat frowned. “This tech is ancient.”

 

“Don’t be so sure, Natasha,” Hank said happily, placing himself in the best spot to see and/or use as much equipment as possible. He spotted a USB port next to a large rod-and-tube looking screen, fishing out the pendrive and plugging it in.

 

_Initiate system?_ The screen lit us as soon as Hank plugged in the pendrive, green block-text glowing in the shady basement.

 

“ _Y-E-S_ ,” Hank said out loud as he inputed the response, stepping back with a grin as the computer did what it did. Initially, the prompt faded to black, not replaced with an image. Instead, a heavily accented voice began to speak, words appearing on the screen as it identified each of the people in the room by full name, complete with year of birth. A camera seemed to flicker on, as the next screen over was displaying live feed of the room in black and white.

 

_Rogers, Steven Grant, born 1918_

_Romanova, Natalia Alianova, born 1984_

_Pym, Henry Jonathan, born 1989_

 

“It’s some kind of recording,” Nat frowned, brows furrowing.

 

“I am not a recording, Fräulein,” the voice spoke. “I may not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945, but I am,” it said with its oddly mechnical voice, an image of Dr. Arnim Zola replacing the names on the large screen.

 

“Do you know this guy?” Hank asked with a frown matching Nat’s, though it was more because he was visually assessing each separate monitor and system, trying to figure out how they were running on their own like this.

 

“Dr. Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for Red Skull. He’s been dead for years,” Steve answered, confused as to what was going on more than before.

 

“First correction: I am Swiss,” Zola corrected with a digital huff. “Second, look around Captain. I have never been more alive. In 1972, I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body; my mind, however, was worth saving on two hundred thousand feet of data banks. You are standing in my brain.”

 

Steve and Nat looked rightfully uncomfortable, though Hank’s childlike glee only increased the more he learned about the system before him.

 

“How did you end up here?” Steve asked bluntly,

 

“I was invited,” Zola said, and even though the image didn’t move, the trio could hear the smirk in his voice.

 

“Operation Paperclip,” Nat realized. “It ran after World War II. SHIELD recruited German scientists they thought they could benefit from.”

 

“They thought I could help their cause. I also helped my own,” Zola boasted.

 

“HYDRA died with the Red Skull,” Steve shook his head in disbelief.

 

“Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.” The voice didn’t come from Zola, instead from Hank, who was crouching in front of the main screen with Zola’s image, trying to get a look at the hardware. His tone was low, sounding as if he’d just solved a puzzle that he hadn’t known he needed to. “That’s what Ancient Greek literature says about the Hydra that Hercules fought,” he explained, standing up and turning to face the other two. “If one leader is killed, two more step up to take their place. HYDRA may not have died with the Red Skull; it could’ve been taken over.”

 

“Prove it,” Steve said once he took in Hank’s theory, eyes dark and jaw set. The screen changed to old security footage, showing Red Skull, as well as the SHIELD founders.

 

“HYDRA was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. What we did not realize, was that if you try to take that freedom away, they resist,” Zola explained, footage flashing different scenes. “The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. After the war, SHIELD was founded and I was recruited. The new HYDRA grew. A beautiful parasite inside SHIELD. For seventy years HYDRA has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war. And when history did not cooperate, history was changed.”

 

“That’s impossible. SHIELD would’ve stopped you,” Nat said defensively.

 

“Accidents will happen,” Zola said tauntingly, playing footage of the ‘car accident’ that killed Howard and Marie Stark in 1993, as well as footage of Steve’s apartment at the time Fury was killed. “HYDRA created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security. Once the purification process is complete, HYDRA's new world order will arise. We won, Captain. Your death amounts to the same as your Life; a zero sum-.” He was cut off by Steve’s fist angrily shattering the glass of the main screen, Hank barely getting out of the way of the flying shards it created.

 

“As I was saying...” Zola said, image appearing on a different screen.

 

“What’s on the drive?” Steve asked with narrowed eyes.

 

“Project Insight required insight, so I wrote an algorithm,” Zola answered as if he were shrugging.

 

“What kind of algorithm?” Hank asked. “What does it do?” If he could get any sort of information, maybe he could crack it open.

 

“The answer to that question is fascinating, Dr. Pym. However, you all will be far too dead to hear it.” With those words, the metal doors of the elevator they’d taken down began to close. Steve tried stopping them by wedging his shield between them, only for it to bounce back to him, too slow.

 

“Steve, we’ve got a bogey,” Nat warned. “Short-range ballistic, 30 seconds tops.”

 

“Who fired it?” Steve asked, looking for a way out.

 

“SHIELD,” Nat said grimly, a matching look on her face.

 

“I am afraid I have been stalling, Captain. Admit it, it's better this way. We're both of us...out of time,” Zola snickered.

 

Steve noticed an opening in the floor covered by a metal grate, hastily removing the grate and grabbing Nat, jumping into it. Hank shrunk as soon as he’d heard there was a bogey, so he dove in with the pair and sat on Steve’s shoulder.


	6. Unexpected Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite having not met the man previous, Hank finds himself standing on the doorstep of Sam Wilson, seeking refuge from the ones who wanted the trio's heads on sticks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have Hank as a giddy child when confronted with fancy tech and the chance to break into a heavily-guarded government facility. I love my smol ant child lol

Standing at the door of a man Hank had never met, but had been told about, he was fidgeting nervously, cursing himself for getting roped into all of this. What if HYDRA went after Janet and Hope, when he wasn’t there and they didn’t know? He couldn’t text or call Janet, because the phones were probably tapped. He was so caught up in his worries that he didn’t realize the door had been opened, Steve and Nat stepping inside.

 

“Hank,” Nat said softly, tapping his upper arm. “You can freak out inside, okay?” she told him, to which he nodded, heading inside with Steve.

 

“Is he okay?” the man who lived there asked in concern, gesturing to Hank. “He looks like he’s about to explode.”

 

“Hank’s got a lot of anxiety disorders,” Nat informed him, trying to calm her friend down somehow. “And having this many people after us that know where he lives, where his family is, doesn’t sit right with him ever,” she said. “But Janet can hold her own, Hank,” she reminded him, turning to face him with a hand on either shoulder. “Janet is capable of incredible things, and you know this. If she desperately needs help, Clint is just a phonecall away. You’ve got to focus on us for now, because you’re the biggest brain we have right now, and we’re going to need it.”

 

During Nat’s pep talk, Hank got his breathing under control, eyes closed so he didn’t see anything that could make it worse. His shoulders fell under Nat’s hands, eyes opening behind his glasses.

 

“Sorry, I just...” Hank trailed off. “I didn’t have a chance to warn Janet before we left for Jersey,” he muttered, shaking his head.

 

“Let’s not think about the negative possibilities, Hank,” Nat said, moving her hands from his shoulders. “We’ve got to think about how to get to the positive outcome.”

 

Hank nodded softly, hugging Nat briefly before pulling away and adjusting his glasses. “Okay, let’s do this.”

 

Steve simply nodded, somewhat caught off-guard by just how gentle and caring Nat had been with Hank in that moment. In the two years he had known her, she wore a mask of indifference almost all the time, the only other expressions he saw on her being related to fighting or spying.

 

Partly to ease Hank’s anxiety, partly to apologize for showing up without warning, the three fugitive Avengers offered to help Sam with some cleaning up around the place before they got down to business. Hank was instantly banned from doing the dishes, as his hands were still shaking. Instead, he was given a broom to sweep some of the hardwood floors, which he did fine at.

 

A few hours passed that were just cleaning, Hank humming softly to himself as he did each new task. Onde they were all done, they sat around Sam’s little kitchen table with some breakfast, talking about what they were going to do.

 

“So, the big question is, who at SHIELD could launch a domestic missile strike?” Nat mused, poking some scrambled eggs with a fork.

 

“Pierce,” Steven and Hank said at the same time.

 

“Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world,” Nat reminded them.

 

“He’s not working alone though, remember?” Hank commented. “Zola’s algorithm was on the Lemurian Star.”

 

“And so was Jasper Sitwell,” Steve added with a nod.

 

“The real question then becomes, how do the three most wanted people in Washington kidnap a SHIELD officer in broad daylight?” Hank said. “There’s always the Ant to fall back on, but they’d expect something like that.”

 

“The answer is the three of you don’t,” Sam interjected, placing a thick file on the table.

 

“What’s this?” Steve frowned, thumbing through the contents.

 

“Call it a resume,” Sam shrugged.

 

“Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you?” Nat noticed, stopping on one of the reports within the file. “You didn’t say he was para-rescue,” she directed to Steve, who was looking at a picture he’d found.

 

“That Riley then?” Steve asked Sam, though he was pretty sure it was. Sam just nodded, staying quiet as the others went through the file.

 

“I heard they couldn’t bring in the choppers because of the RPGs. What did you use, stealth chutes?” Nat asked, a look of slight fascination on her face that Hank knew was actual, genuine fascination.

 

“No, these,” Sam shook his head, handing Steve a different file.

 

“I thought you said you were a pilot,” Steve muttered in surprise upon reading the file. Hank’s eyes were wide in awe as he examined the schematics and photographs of the tech Sam had used.

 

“I never said pilot,” Sam shook his head again, chuckling softly.

 

“I can’t ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a reason,” Steve told him, placing the file on the table only for Hank to snatch it up to examine more closely.

 

“Dude, _Captain America_ needs my help. There’s no better reason to get back in,” Sam stated, smiling slightly.

 

“Where can we get our hands on one of these?” Hank asked, still scanning the different images and statistics.

 

“The last one is in Fort Meade, behind three guarded gates and a twelve-inch steel wall,” Sam answered, raising an eyebrow at the casual looks the other three wore.

 

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Hank assured him, already thinking of the most effective and least destructive ways to shrink the tech and get it out.


	7. Rooftop Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With some... persuasion from Sam and a little red light, Sitwell finds himself on a rooftop being interrogated about the algorithm Zola wrote.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suuuuuper compressed the highway fight at the end of the chapter, because I wanted to focus on Hank, and the fight was mostly Steve. Also as I've said so many times before in the first fic, I hate trying to write fight scenessss

Everything was in place for the confrontation with Sitwell, the only thing missing being the man himself. Hank was nestled in a tree near the spot Sam was sitting, Nat on a rooftop with a sniper ready to point at Sitwell.

 

Sitwell was on the phone when he left the building, though the call was brief. He also encountered another man, whom he embraced in a way Steve was rather familiar with. Once the other guy was gone, Sitwell’s phone rang once more, making him frown.

 

“Yes, sir?” he answered, believing it to be the same man he was speaking to before.

 

“Agent Sitwell. How was lunch? I heard the crab cakes here are delicious,” came the voice on the other end, definitely not who he expected.

 

“Who is this?” Sitwell asked, panic slipping into his tone.

 

“The good looking guy in shades, your ten o’clock,” the voice said. Sitwell turned the wrong way initially, drawing a ‘your other ten o’clock’ from the man on the phone. He gave Sitwell a small wave when he was spotted. “There you go.”

 

“What do you want?” Sitwell asked anxiously.

 

“You’re going to go to around the corner on your right. There’s a black car, two spaces down. You and I are going to take a ride,” the man instructed him.

 

“And why should I do that?” Sitwell countered, trying to sound anything but nervous.

 

“Because that tie looks real expensive, and I wouldn’t want to mess it up,” the man stated, causing Sitwell to look down and see the red dot on his chest. Before Sitwell got too far away, Hank leapt form the tree, landing just inside the collar of his shirt. He moved before Sitwell could swat at him, thinking he was a fly of some sort.

 

Once on the roof with Steve and Nat, Hank jumped off Sitwell’s shoulder and landed between the other two, returning to full size. Steve gave Sitwell a rough shove towards the edge of the roof, Nat and Hank close behind.

 

“Tell me about Zola’s algorithm,” Steve demanded.

 

“Never heard of it,” Sitwell responded, lying as best he could with a racing heart.

 

“What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?” Steve pressed, getting another smartass answer.

 

“I was throwing up. I get seasick,” Sitwell answered, which was at least somewhat true. It seemed to not be what Steve wanted to hear, because he shoved Sitwell to the edge of the roof, which made the agent smile for some reason. “Is this little display meant to insinuate you’d throw me off the building? That’s not your style, Captain,” he said idly, thinking he had an upper hand.

 

“You’re right, it’s not,” Steve said with a dangerous smirk. “It is hers though,” he added, stepping away so Nat could plant a solid kick to his chest, throwing him off the roof.

 

“Oh, what about that girl from accounting, ...Laura?” Nat said out of the blue, turning to Steve.

 

“Lillian. Lip piercing, right?” Steve guessed.

 

“Yeah. I think she’s cute,” Nat smirked playfully.

 

“Yeah, I’m not ready for that,” Steve shook his head. Hank just watched the exchange, amused. She’d done this to so many agents back when Hank and Janet were first recruited. Bobbi Morse was a notorious example of the number of times Nat will try to hook you up with someone before you cave. It too Nat three and a half years to get her set up with someone.

 

Sam flew up to the roof right then, Falcon suit wings outstretched and Sitwell dangling from his arms until he dropped the man back onto the roof.

 

“Zola’s algorithm is a program,” Sitwell said quickly, hands up in surrender. “It chooses the targets for Insight.”

 

“What targets?” Hank asked, not liking the sounds of where this was going.

 

“The three of you! A TV news anchor in Cairo, a high school cheerleader in North Dakota, Peter Parker, Stephen Strange, anyone who’s a threat to HYDRA! Now, or in the future,” Sitwell rambled, not wanting to be shoved off the roof again.

 

“How could it possibly predict the future?” Hank frowned, arms crossed over his chest.

 

“How could it not? The 21st century is a digital book. Zola taught HYDRA how to read it,” Sitwell said quickly. “Bank records, voting records, medical histories, e-mails, texts, phone calls, even SAT scores. Zola’s algorithm evaluates people’s past to predict the future.”

 

“What then?” Hank asked sharply, despite having a logical guess.

 

“The-the Insight Helicarriers scratch people off the list, a few million at a time,” Sitwell responded.

 

~*~*~

 

Hank had been relegated to the console between the two front seats as they drove, sitting there at about the size of an action figure as the others spoke. He didn’t really mind, especially if it meant he was further from Sitwell. That man was unnerving to the scientist in so many ways. He was minding his own business, not really paying attention until the sound of something heavy landing on the roof jolted him to attention. Hank shrunk smaller, so he could just barely see over the top of the cupholder, watching as a very familiar silver arm reached in to snag Sitwell, throwing him into traffic. When bullets started flying, Hank made himself just big enough to get out of the cup holder, and small enough to not be seen as he got out of the car and summoned any nearby carpenter ants that wanted to be in a fight.

 

Once Hank had securely mounted his temporary ant steed, he took to the air, cursing at his lack of defensive equipment. He ended up collecting the debris from the torn-up roadway and cars, throwing them at HYDRA agents just as he made them quite a bit bigger, letting them hit the agents and knock them down. Some of the car pieces ended up so big it crushed an agent flat, and caused another to nearly lose an arm. He quickly wore himself out though, parting from his ant friend as he landed a little away from the battle itself so he could return to normal size and run over to see if he could clear some civilians.

 

The explosion made Hank skid backwards a good few feet, hands pressing over his ears to stop the ringing that had started. His ears were ringing so loud he hadn’t heard the sirens, only realizing something was happening when he was forced to his knees and cuffed.


	8. Director's Orders vs. Captain's Orders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With some help from Maria Hill, the four captives get free of the van they were shoved into, only to be confronted with an unwanted confrontation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone thinks the depiction of Hank without his glasses is over-exaggerated or whatever, Imma just say this: my dudes, my lovely dudes reading this, I can tell you with 200% certainty that it really is _that bad_ to go without your glasses, for even a short amount of time. Hank is basically me in that bit, a blind dumbass that can't see shit.

Whatever the cuffs were made of, they blocked Hank’s abilities a little too well. When he tried to shrink down to escape them, he received an electric shock, which solidified that he wouldn’t be doing that again. His ears had finally stopped ringing, but he’d apparently lost his glasses at some point without noticing, so everything was a blurry mess.

 

“It was him. He looked me right in the eyes like he didn’t even know me,” Steve muttered, sounding distraught and defeated. Hank would’ve put a hand on his shoulder if they weren’t cuffed so tightly.

 

“How’s that even possible? That was like seventy years ago,” Sam frowned.

 

“Zola. He kidnapped Bucky’s whole unit in ‘43 and experimented on them,” Steve recalled. “Whatever they did to Bucky must’ve helped him survive the fall… They must’ve found him, and...”

 

“None of that is your fault, Steve,” Nat told him sincerely.

 

“Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky,” Steve mumbled, almost a whisper really. Even without his glasses, Hank could _see_ the heartbreak Steve was feeling. The tone of his voice, the trailing off of his words, the lack of motivation. It all reminded Hank of something he’d rather forget, even if he really never would.

 

“Hey, we really need a doctor back here!” Sam shouted to no one in particular, noticing how badly Nat’s shoulder was bleeding. “We don’t put pressure on the wound, she’ll bleed out right here in the van.”

 

Suddenly, one of the two masked guards pulled out an electric prode, driving it firmly into the other guard’s side, then removed their helmet to reveal a familiar face and head of short brown hair.

 

“Ah, that thing was squeezing my brain,” Maria muttered, shaking her head slightly. She turned and nodded towards Sam with a raised eyebrow. “Who’s this guy?” she asked.

 

“A Falcon,” Sam answered, watching as Maria burned a large hole through the bottom of the van, even further down into the ground. She shoved all four of them down the hole, jumping down herself right afterwards.

 

Underneath the van was some sort of secret facility, with high-tech equipment despite the dirt walls and flooring surrounding it all. Hank stumbled along as best he could, even after the cuffs were removed. He grabbed for the first shirt he could reach, which ended up being Sam’s, so he wouldn’t trip and fall. Someone Hank assumed was a medical professional rushed over, discussing Nat’s injury with Maria. Apparently, there was someone here who Nat would want to see before they patched up her shoulder, so Hank kept gripping Sam’s shirt as the group moved.

 

“About damn time,” the voice of a worn-out Nick Fury proclaimed, causing Hank to just blink rapidly for a solid minute and a half.

 

The medic had Nat sit on a table so he could attend to her wound, while Hank was given a chair to sit on so he wasn’t stumbling everyone blindly until they could get him a new pair of glasses, prescription given by Hank himself so he knew they’d be right.

 

Putting the new glasses on made everything so bright and crisp that Hank flinched backwards, blinking a few times to readjust to seeing things.

 

“I don’t think you’ll be breaking those any time soon, Dr. Pym,” the woman who gave him the glasses assured him. “They’re as indestructable as we could make them. Vibranium-steel alloy for the legs, diamond-laced glass for the lenses.”

 

“Thank you so much,” Hank muttered gratefully. He broke a _lot_ of glasses, in the field and at home.

 

With his ability to see restored, Hank could probably take in the sight of Fury lying in that bed, all kinds of equipment hooked up to him.

 

“Lacerated spinal column, cracked sternum, shattered collarbone, perforated liver, one hell of a headache,” Fury said, once Hank could see and focus on a conversation without getting a headache.

 

“Don’t forget the collapse lung,” the doctor tending to some of the machines reminded him.

 

“Oh, let’s not forget that. Otherwise, I’m good,” Fury commented.

 

“They cut you open, your heart stopped,” Nat said slowly, disbelief heavy in her voice.

 

“Tetrodotoxin B,” was Fury’s response. “Slows the pulse to one beat per minute. Banner developed it for stress, but it didn’t work well for him. We found a use for it though.”

 

“Why all the secrecy? Why not just tell us?” Hank asked with a frown, fingers flexing and unflexing out of nervous habit.

 

“Any attempt on the director’s life had to look successful,” Maria reasoned.

 

“Can’t kill you if you’re already dead,” Fury pointed out. “Besides, I wasn’t sure who to trust.”

 

About an hour later, when Nat’s shoulder was stable and the other three were checked for anything more serious than some scrapes, they were sitting with Fury again, who had a picture of Pierce with him.

 

“This man turned down the Nobel Peace Prize,” Fury commented. “He said ‘peace wasn’t an achievment; it was a responsibility.’. See, it’s stuff like this that gives me trust issues.”

 

“We have to stop the launch,” Nat stated, the other three agents nodding.

 

“I don’t think the Council’s accepting my calls anymore,” Fury noted, opening a case that had been brought over. It contained three data chips that immediately piqued Hank’s interest.

 

“What’s that?” Hank asked curiously.

 

“Once the Helicarriers reach 3,000 feet, they’ll triangulate with Insight’s satellite, becoming weaponized,” Maria explained.

 

“We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own,” Fury said. “One or two of them won’t cut it. We need to link all three carriers for this to work, because if even one of those ships remains operational, a whole lot of people are going to die.”

 

“We need to assume anyone onboard is HYDRA,” Maria instructed. “We need to get passed them, insert the server blades, and maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what’s left.”

 

“We’re not salvaging anything,” Steve said firmly, shaking his head. “We’re not just taking down the carriers, we’re taking down SHIELD.”

 

“SHIELD had nothing to do with it,” Fury stated calmly.

 

“You gave me this mission, this is how it ends. SHIELD’s been compromised, you said so yourself. HYDRA grew right under your noses from the very beginning, and nobody noticed,” Steve went on, narrowing his eyes.

 

“Why do you think we’re meeting in a cave?” Fury said rhetorically. “I noticed.”

 

“And how many people paid the price before you did?” Steve countered.

 

“Look, I didn’t know about Barnes,” Fury claimed. Steve didn’t believe him, but he’d humour him nonetheless.

 

“Even if you had, would you have told me?” Steve challenged. “Or would you have compartmentalized that too? SHIELD, HYDRA, everything goes.”

 

“He’s right, Fury,” Hank spoke up from where he’d been sitting in quiet thought. “You said not to trust anyone, which includes you. Now, I trust Steve. I’ll follow Steve into battle, but you’ve lost whatever trust I had for you the second I realized you’d lied to _everyone_ , two years ago. Tony was right, as rarely as those words come out of my mouth in that order: your secrets have an insane number of secrets all their own, and you don’t share with _anyone_ ,” he said evenly, an uncommon dangerous look in his green-blue eyes that made Sam uneasy.

 

“I’m with Tic-Tac,” Sam nodded. “I’ve never met you before now, and you’re already the least trustworthy person I know,” he commented.

 

“Well Captain, I guess you’re giving the orders now,” Maria said with a raised eyebrow. Hank wasn’t known to talk back to authority like that, least of all Fury.


	9. Battle of the Triskellion: Ant-Man Edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank's role in the Battle of the Triskellion was basically be one-half of the duo that had to break the news to SHIELD about HYDRA, and to distract as many people as he can because his defense is non-existent weapon wise.

Hank had a bit of time to get Janet to take in the seams of his uniform, so it was fitting a lot better than it did on the Lemurian Star. He made sure his belt wasn’t crooked, double-checking that Hope’s ‘good luck ant’ was in the same belt pocket it always was. He didn’t put on his helmet right away, carrying it at his side like a soccer ball as he followed Sam, Steve, and Maria towards the Triskellion. He had a few vials of the particles in one pocket as well, in case he needed a boost at any given time.

 

How they managed to get as far into the building unnoticed as they did was beyond Hank. One guy in star-spangled spandex with a shield strapped to his back, another guy with a device resembling a jet-pack strapped to his back, and Hank, a guy in red-and-black spandex and silver armour. They stuck out like a sore thumb, and yet they made it to a spot Steve could access the loudspeaker from.

 

“Attention, all SHIELD agents,” Steve said into the handset microphone for the speaker, shoulders squared out of habit when he was giving orders or anything similar. “This is Steve Rogers. I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about me over the last few days. Some of you were even ordered to hunt me down, but I think it’s time you learn the truth.” As they’d discussed, Hank was handed the handset microphone, voice quite firm and confident despite his dislike towards speeches.

 

“SHIELD isn’t what we thought it was, it never truly has been,” Hank said, some people confused by the sudden change of speaking voice. “Today, the Captain and I are here with some terrible information. From the early days of the agency, our worst enemy has laid within our ranks, adapting to our evolving technology and tactics. For every step SHIELD took forward, they took two so they could best us. You could even say that for every head we cut off, they grew two more,” he went on, handing the microphone back to Steve.

 

“It’s unfortunately true,” Steve said, with the same commanding tone as before. “HYDRA has been waiting for an opportunity to overpower what parts of SHIELD’s authentic force that remains, lead by none other than Alexander Pierce. STRIKE and the crew of Project Insight are HYDRA as well, though we don’t know if there are any others scattered across the agency. One of them could be standing right next to you,” he said, switching off to Hank again.

 

“Today, they’ve finally got their goal within reach: absolute control, courtesy of Project Insight,” Hank spoke, still managing to sound confident. “They shot Nick Fury, but they sure as Hell won’t end there. If you launch those helicarriers today, HYDRA will be able to kill anyone they see as a potential threat almost instantly, unless we can stop them.” Handing the microphone to Steve for the last time, Hank began fixing the fasteners of his mask so he could put it on, setting it just right so that it wasn’t digging into the sides of his face.

 

“I know we’re asking a lot, but the price of freedom is high. It always has been, and it’s a price we’re willing to pay. If we’re the only two, so be it, but I’m willing to bet we aren’t,” Steve said, switching off the microphone and putting it back.

 

“Did the two of you write that out or something?” Sam joked idly, shaking his head. The trio split off for the length of time it took each of them to get outside, so it was harder to get all three of them. Hank went tiny, hitching a ride on the pantleg of a passing agent that was rushing towards the control room. He quickly jumped off and hid under the lowest leaves of a potted plant when he noticed Rumlow, morbidly curious to see what would happen.

 

 

“Preempt the launch sequence, send those ships up now,” Rumlow ordered one of the techs, who was shaking like a leaf. “Is there something wrong?” he asked sharply.

 

“I’m...” the tech stuttered, only to have Rumlow repeat the question in a sharper tone. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m not going to launch those ships. Captain’s orders, _and_ Doctor’s orders,” the tech said after trying to regulate their breathing. All of that was for nothing, as Rumlow presed the barrel of his gun to the tech’s temple, roughly dragging them from their station.

 

Agent 13, who was nearby when Rumlow ran in, drew her weapon and pointed it at Rumlow. “I don’t know about you, Brock, but I don’t tend to ignore orders from my doctor, or from a superior officer,” she said idly, as the other SHIELD agents in the room drew guns on Rumlow as well.

 

“You picked the wrong side, Agent Carter,” Rumlow spat, dropping his gun only to pull a knife out of his boot and make a slash towards Sharon.

 

“Depends on where you’re standing,” Sharon said evenly, about to take a shot when Rumlow’s knife sliced through her sleeve and arm, forcing her to drop her gun. The other agents opened fire though, which was Hank’s cue to get the Hell out of there before he was squished by a stray bullet or shell casing.

 

~*~*~

 

Since Hank’s only real defense was shrapnel and rubble, he was tasked with catching HYDRA agents off guard so they wouldn’t make it outside to stop Steve and Sam, or upstairs to stop Nat. He was pretty great at distracting people, landing some punches and kicks as he fluidly changed size as he moved, dealing devastating hits when he was tiny that broke one attacking agent’s ribs. He was in the middle of a backflip off an agent’s shin when his comm cut through the chaos, Maria’s voice coming through.

 

“Ant-Man, Falcon, Rumlow’s headed for the council. You both need to get there as fast as you can,” Maria ordered, and Hank could hear Sam’s confirmation.

 

“I’ll hitch a ride,” Hank responded once he’d landed, which happened to be in the boot of someone running for the stairs anyway. He jumped out of the boot and started running once he spotted Rumlow just down the hall, downing a bottle of particles so he could keep going. He watched as Sam ambushed Rumlow, using his moment of distraction to leap up onto the barrel of Rumlow’s gun, which was pointed at Sam.

 

“There are no prisoners with HYDRA. Only order,” Rumlow hissed, not noticing Hank right away. “Order comes with pain. Are you ready for yours?”

 

“Man, shut the Hell up,” Sam rolled his eyes, silently signalling for Hank to attack.

 

Attack he did, jumping up from the gun’s barrel with enough force to knock it out of Rumlow’s grip, growing to about a foot over his normal height and swinging a punch at Rumlow’s sternum. Sam threw himself into the fight as well, making it two-on-one with a heavy benefit on the two since Hank was constantly shifting his size and disappearing from Rumlow’s view.

 

“You’re out of your depths, men,” Rumlow chided, though he was cut off by debris crushing him from one of the helicarriers tearing through the wall. Hank just barely missed getting hit, landing on Sam’s shoulder at about the size of a Barbie doll.

 

“Please tell me you’ve got that chopper,” Sam said into his comm, sprinting away as fast as he could, Hank gripping the shoulder of his vest as to not fall off.

 

“Sam, where are you?” Nat’s voice echoed through both comms, making Hank wince.

 

“41st floor, north-west corner. I’ve got Hank with me,” Sam relayed.

 

“Stay where you are,” Nat instructed, but Hank cut her off.

 

“That’s really not an option, Nat,” Hank said frantically. “If we do that, we’re pancakes courtesy of falling concrete and iron supports.”

 

Sam didn’t wait for an answer, tucking Hank safely into his chest pocket as he dove out of the building from a missing wall, narrowly saved by Nat with the chopper before he crashed into the ground.

 

Hank climbed out of Sam’s pocket once they were steady, returning to normal size and just sitting down and breathing roughly. He’d never pushed himself this far, shifting so often and so quickly, and now that the adrenaline was gone, he was starting to feel the effects full-force.


	10. Post-Credit Scene: Daddy's Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few hours stuck in the hospital, Hank is allowed to leave. He steps outside to see Janet and Hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was gonna be longer than it is, but I couldn't think of a way to keep it going, so it's kind of a post-credits scene.

Hank had to stay at the hospital for a few hours before they let him go home. He had some pretty deep gashes in his legs and lower back, as well as strained muscles almost everywhere possible. He kept insisting he was fine, that he just wanted to go home to his daughter. When they finally released him, he walked out the hospital’s front doors to find Janet standing there, Hope resting on her hip. When Hope saw Hank, she lit up like a Christmas tree, making grabby hands towards her Daddy.

 

“Hey Jellybean,” Hank chuckled, shifting so he could hand Janet the bag with his uniform while he took Hope from her. “Sorry for taking so long, Auntie Nat and I wound up in a lot of trouble. But don’t worry, I’ll still read you that story.”

 

“Yay!” Hope grinned, clapping excitedly before wrapping her arms around Hank’s neck.


End file.
